


and I don't want nobody (nobody but you, my love)

by echoes_of_realities



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, and not having enough time to write anything longer because work lol, season 6, this is the result of rewatching season 6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-05-31 15:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15122030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_realities/pseuds/echoes_of_realities
Summary: “When are you planning on proposing?” Mercedes prompts.Santana shrugs nonchalantly, but Mercedes can tell she’s practically bursting with joy. “I wanna do it back in Lima. Maybe during homecoming or something. But I don’t know if I can wait that long.”“Will you do it in the choir room?” Mercedes asks knowingly.Santana gives Mercedes a lopsided smile, “Yeah, that’s the plan.”Or: A short three part story regarding the Brittana proposal.





	1. and I don’t want nobody

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been rewatching season 6 lately and suddenly got the urge To Write, so have the first of a short three part story regarding the Brittana proposal. (Also I just really love Mercedes being the best friend possible.)
> 
> Title from “Nobody (feat. Jade Novah & Cynthia Ervio” by Todrick Hall

Santana knows she’s in trouble as soon as she walks into her and Brittany’s hotel room. Everything’s the exact same as her and Britt left it this morning, the opened suitcases and clothes thrown haphazardly, the empty water bottles covering the dressers and random bits of jewelry and makeup tossed about, even the vending machine snacks they forgot about in order to cuddle up on the bed in complete and utter exhaustion. Everything’s the exact same, except for one Mercedes Jones standing in the middle of the room with her arms crossed and a stormy look on her face, the door to their conjoining rooms wide open.

Santana holds up her hands in preemptive surrender and lets the door swing shut behind her with a heavy _thump_. “No matter what Josie tells you, it wasn’t me.”

Mercedes’ face clears into confusion. “What?”

“What?”

“What did you do?”

Santana takes a couple wary steps into the room. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Santana,” Mercedes warns.

“Mercedes,” Santana deadpans.

“You know, whatever. I’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Mercedes concedes. “But that’s not why you’re in trouble.”

Santana blinks and glances around the room. “Uh, then what is it?”

“This is.” Mercedes points to the desk, and as Santana steps closer she can see the hint of elation hidden in Mercedes’ frown; it confuses Santana, but not as much as what Mercedes is pointing to. On the desk is a little box that Santana recognizes instantly. It’s a deep red velvet with soft padding inside, and it contains the most important thing Santana has ever bought; a  thin band that will lay flat on Brittany’s finger since she doesn’t really wear a lot of jewelry, the diamond in the middle and the tiny ones on either side of the band all sparkle and create faint rainbows whenever they catch the sunlight (something Santana knows because she takes it out to stare at it so much), and on the inside of the band is a small engraving that reads _and I love her_. Santana knows all this because she spent months looking in every city they travelled through for the perfect ring, and then weeks after that searching for a place that she could sneak off to for the engraving.

“Huh?” Santana says blankly.

“You’re planning to propose and you didn’t even tell me?” Mercedes chides teasingly.

Santana swallows but can’t help the smile that quirks her lips when she glances up at Mercedes. “Yeah,” she says simply, because, after everything Brittany and her have been through, it really is that simple. Mercedes’ chiding expression stretches into a beaming smile, but before she can do anything, a seed of panic blooms in Santana’s chest. “But, uh, I didn’t— I mean, where did you find this?”

Mercedes shrugs. “I came in here looking for my headphones since Brittany borrowed them last night, and I found this on the bedside table instead. You should probably keep it in a safer place though, if you want to keep it a surprise, you know?”

Santana shakes her head, her eyes glazed and worried. “I didn’t leave it there. It was in my makeup bag since Britt never goes in there. She always says she hates trying to find anything in my mess and she refuses to touch it,” Santana explains with a faint smile, one that fades as her eyes widen. “You don’t think—” Santana says at the same time that Mercedes sucks in a sharp breath, the skin around her eyes tight.

“I swear I found it right there,” Mercedes says and points at the bedside table across the room, her voice strained with worry.

“She didn’t— I mean, she wouldn’t have— Right?” Santana feels something heavy under her sternum, like someone reached into her chest and started to squeeze while simultaneously kicking the hell out of her stomach. 

Mercedes shakes her head violently. “I’m sure she didn’t, I mean— You’d probably know by know, right?”

“Right,” Santana agrees, but she doesn’t sound certain at all.

“Well you said you kept it in your makeup bag, right? So where is it?”

“I left it on the bedside table,” Santana says, and heads to her side of the queen bed to look for the bag. The makeup bag is sitting propped against the wall on the alarm clock, the zipper undone and her makeup just as haphazardly thrown in as usual, exactly _how_ she left it this morning since her and Britt were running late, but it’s not _where_ she left it, and Santana frowns deeply at it.

“Was housekeeping in here?” Mercedes asks suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Housekeeping,” Mercedes repeats, “Maybe they knocked your makeup bag off the table and the ring box fell out so the housekeeper just put it back on the table instead of in the bag.”

Santana feels the vice grip loosen around her heart a little bit. “Maybe,” she agrees, “I mean— Yeah, you’re probably right. It was in there this morning before we left, and neither of us have been back to the room yet, so that’s gotta be it. There’s no way she found it,” Santana says confidently, even though she doesn’t feel very confident.

“I’m sure that’s it,” Mercedes soothes. Santana takes a deep breath and sits on the edge of the bed, sending Mercedes a wavering smile full of relief. “I can keep it, if you want,” Mercedes suggests after a long moment. “That way there’s no way Brittany will find it.”

Santana looks up at her with wide eyes. “Really?”

“Of course,” Mercedes says with a laugh, “What are friends for?”

Warmth blooms in Santana’s stomach at the thought; she’d spent so long convincing herself she didn’t need friends, that sometimes she forgets how much she really loves having someone who always has her back. “Thanks, Wheezy,” she says, hoping to offset the too obvious gratitude and appreciation she feels for Mercedes.

Mercedes just rolls her eyes indulgently, all too aware of Santana’s weird way of expressing genuine affection (and a little bit fond of the old nickname, if she’s being honest). “When are you planning on proposing?” she prompts, grabbing the ring box off the desk and handing it to Santana.

Santana shrugs nonchalantly as she takes the box, but Mercedes can tell she’s practically bursting with joy. “I wanna do it back in Lima. Maybe during homecoming or something. But I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“Will you do it in the choir room?” Mercedes asks knowingly.

Santana gives Mercedes a lopsided smile, “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

Mercedes sighs dreamily. “That sounds perfect. I’m so happy for you,” Mercedes says with a proud smile so wide it crinkles her eyes, reaching forward to tug Santana off the bed and into a tight hug.

“Thanks,” Santana says into Mercedes’ shoulder, and the spark of happiness under her sternum flickers and heats up. She never even knew how badly she needed someone else telling her she’s doing the right thing until this moment. “But she hasn’t even said yes,” she eventually mumbles with just a hint of doubt colouring her voice.

“Girl!” Mercedes half-shrieks as she pulls back, holding Santana at arms length by her shoulders. “Are you kidding me?” she laughs, “Of course she’ll say yes.”

Santana swallows the small sliver of insecurity that’s bubbling in her throat. “Yeah?”

Mercedes rolls her eyes fondly. “Are you crazy? That girl’s so in love with you she can’t see straight.”

Santana chuckles and lets herself relax. “I don’t think she was ever seeing straight.”

Mercedes’ laugh lights up her face. “Touché.”

Santana grins and carefully fingers the seam of the ring box as she sits back down on the bed. Mercedes smiles softly at the look on Santana’s face; the Mercedes of sophomore year would never ever in a million years believe where she is right now, hanging out in a Chicago hotel room with Santana Lopez on the fourth month of her very own tour, talking about Santana’s plans to propose to one Brittany Pierce, but there’s also nowhere else Mercedes would rather be.

“It’s beautiful,” Mercedes murmurs as she sits beside Santana. 

Santana hums distractedly.

“She’ll love it.” 

Santana’s smile spreads into the softest smile Mercedes has ever seen as she uses her thumb to flip open the ring box with practiced ease. “I’ve been looking for it since L.A.,” she admits, and Mercedes’ jaw drops.

“That was months ago,” Mercedes gasps. “As in literally the first month of the tour.”

Santana nods wordlessly and continues to smile at the ring. Mercedes takes the moment to admire the ring again. It’s still as pretty and sparkling as it was when Mercedes first found it, and now that her original shock has faded she can really appreciate how perfect it is for Brittany. The centre diamond sits slightly above the band but not so much as to be hinder-some, the accent diamonds on either side of it sit right in the thin band and sparkle softly in the afternoon sunlight streaming in from the window, and there’s a hint of an engraving on the inside of the band that peaks out from where it sits in the cushion.

“I’m really proud of you, Santana,” Mercedes says. “I never would have believed this was possible back in high school.”

Santana rolls her eyes with a wry grin. “You tried to date the Mayor of Gaytown, I’m pretty sure you would have believed anything.”

“No seriously!” Mercedes protests with a laugh, throwing an arm around Santana’s shoulders. “Sometimes I can’t believe how far we’ve come, you know? Like five years ago I was just barely on the social ladder with some hardcore early 2000s fashion going on, and you were so far in the closet they were about to name you the queen of Narnia.”

“Oh shut up,” Santana laughs.

Mercedes laughs again too, tightening her arm around Santana’s shoulders. “We did good,” Mercedes says.

Santana grins and stares down at the open ring box, watching the way the diamonds sparkle brightly as she slowly tilts the box, thinking about a tour so successful it got bumped from one month to five and a girl so perfect that Santana can barely contain herself from blurting a proposal out every time she sees her.

“Yeah,” Santana says softly, “we really did.”

 


	2. nobody else will do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you okay?” Brittany asks, her expression caught between worry and confusion.
> 
> “I’m fine, really,” Santana promises.
> 
> “Are you nervous about the duet?” Brittany asks.
> 
> Santana smiles and kisses Brittany’s collarbone. “Nah,” she says, and she’s not even lying, “Just excited. Really, really excited.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2!! 
> 
> Aka the morning before the proposal.

Santana wakes up in the morning warm and comfortable, Brittany’s arms are draped over her and Santana hums and buries herself further into Brittany’s chest. Brittany mumbles something into her hair, tightening her arms around Santana and rolling backwards slightly so Santana is partially sprawled across her, their legs tangled together and their stomachs pressed against each other, breathing on a cycle. They’re supposed to be at the school for ten thirty, and Santana doesn’t know what time it is, but she really doesn’t feel inclined to move.

Brittany mumbles something again and Santana smiles into her chest. Brittany is adorable all the time, but she’s probably at her most adorable when she’s bed-warm and sleepy in the morning right as she wakes up, a sight Santana never grows tired of. Santana sighs and curls further into Brittany, thinking that this is exactly how she wants to wake up for the rest of her life; and it’s only at that moment that Santana jolts wide awake with the realization of what she intends to do today. 

“No,” Brittany mumbles, “Less tense, more relaxed. Not awake yet.”

Santana giggles into Brittany’s chest and places a sweet kiss there, letting herself relax. Her stomach is churning with thousands of butterflies, now that she remembers what today is, but with Brittany wrapped around her Santana can’t really find it in herself to be anxious (she knows that will change the closer it gets to their duet and her plans for after, but for now, right at this moment, she’s perfectly fine).

“Babe,” Santana says, giggling again when all Brittany does is start whining pathetically, “We should at least check what time it is.”

“Shh, the time is sleep,” Brittany insists.

Santana presses another kiss to Brittany’s chest, right above her heart, and wiggles her way up to her elbows, Brittany grumbling and trying to hold Santana in place against her the entire way. Santana smiles softly at Brittany once she’s hovering above her; blonde hair a tangled mess against pink pillows, sun-freckled cheeks scrunched up in displeasure, and two tiny slivers of blue glaring at Santana for disturbing their cuddles. Santana ducks down and sprinkles kisses over Brittany’s face like spring showers, hitting all of the significant places of her face — forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, chin, lips — and then all of the little places in between — freckles, eyelashes, the arch of an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth, that one tiny scar tucked against her earlobe; Santana kisses her until Brittany’s fully awake and giggling and kissing her back, she kisses her until she’s written all of her most important promises into Brittany’s skin in love-tinted permanent ink. Brittany hums against Santana’s lips like she understands everything Santana’s trying to say, her fingers tracing patterns all over Santana’s back and hips and sides that feel like small hearts. 

“Mmm,” Brittany murmurs as Santana pulls back, smiling up at her, “G’morning.”

Santana giggles and kisses her again, quick and firm. “Morning.”

Brittany chases her lips and kisses Santana for a long, deep moment; long and deep enough that Santana kind of forgets that they need to get up and get ready and go to the school for their duet; long and deep enough that Santana almost blurts _marry me_ into Brittany’s mouth instead of waiting to ask her in the choir room like how she’s planned it for the past five months. 

“We’ve gotta get up and get ready,” Santana manages to gasp when she pulls away, determined to make it through a couple more hours before asking Brittany to marry her; she’s managed to not propose to Brittany for the entirety of the tour, and she refuses to lose it now (though there was that one time, but Santana’s pretty sure they were both drunk enough that Brittany forgot about it — or, she hopes they were drunk enough that Brittany forgot about it).

“Ehh,” Brittany says, slipping her fingers under the waistband of Santana’s sleep shorts. 

Santana groans and kisses Brittany again. “Not fair,” she mumbles against Brittany’s lips.

Brittany just chuckles into Santana’s mouth, sliding her hands further under Santana’s sleep shorts and making all cohesive thought decidedly difficult.

“Britt,” Santana whines. “We need to go.”

“You don’t even know what time it is,” Brittany shoots back, “We could have _hours_ before we need to be there.”

Santana untangles herself from Brittany enough that she can reach over her body for her phone, determinedly ignoring Brittany’s grumbles of protest at the interruption. She lights up the phone and groans. “It’s nine thirty,” Santana complains, “We should already be in the shower.”

“We?” Brittany asks in interest, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Santana rolls her eyes despite the lick of heat that curls in her stomach. “Later,” she promises, and the heart curling in her stomach grows into a soft warmth at the thought that _later_ her girlfriend might be her _fiancée_. 

(Despite everything, there’s a tiny part of Santana that’s absolutely terrified that Brittany will say _no_ , and Santana’s really not sure her fragile heart could take that. It’s the same part of her that was so paralyzed with fear back in sophomore and junior year that she turned mean and tried her hardest to push Brittany far away, and it’s the same part of her that still aches a little bit when she remembers that day by the lockers that changed everything. But now it all feels so long ago, and it’s such a small part of her that she ignores it in favour of the rest of her, which gets warm and happy and giddy when she thinks of last night and Brittany promising to love her _for infinity_ last night. While there’s still a part of her that’s terrified that Brittany will say _no_ , Santana knows, deep down, that she doesn’t have to worry about that.) 

“Ugh, fine,” Brittany relents good-naturedly, giving Santana one more searching kiss before releasing her.

“Great!” Santana says as she bounces up out of bed. 

Brittany smiles indulgently from where she’s stretched out on the mattress. “Why are you so excited about this?” Brittany asks, her voice coloured with curiosity.

Santana tries to shrug nonchalantly, but considering Brittany’s raised eyebrows she doesn’t really succeed. “I just think it will be fun, you know, singing and dancing in front of the glee club again, but _together_ this time. Without all of my old hangups and all the dumb drama,” she rambles.

Brittany smiles and looks a little bit like she just took a bite of something sweet. “You’re too cute,” she says.

Santana rolls her eyes and ignores the warmth in her cheeks and under her sternum and deep in her stomach. “Oh save it,” she grumbles as she heads out of Brittany’s room and to the bathroom. 

She’s in the shower by the time she hears Brittany wander in to start brushing her teeth. “Do ‘ou wan’ coffeh ‘o go?” Brittany half-mumbles around her toothbrush and half-shouts over the spray of the shower.

Santana already feels jittery enough without caffeine running through her system, but on the other hand declining a coffee will definitely catch Brittany’s attention. She’s quiet for so long that she hears Brittany spit out her toothpaste and rinse before she repeats her question.

“If we have time,” she calls back.

“K,” Brittany agrees. It’s quiet for a long moment, broken only by the sounds of Santana rinsing conditioner out of her hair, and Santana almost thinks Brittany has left the bathroom when she speaks again, her voice bright and cheeky. “If you don’t hurry up I’ll have to join in and help,” she teases.

Santana knows she’s playing with fire when she responds with “Is that a threat or a promise?”

The next sound she hears is the shower curtain being pulled back and then Brittany is pressed against her back, all warm skin and strong muscles. Santana sighs at the kiss pressed to her neck and lets her head loll back towards Brittany. “Okay, but no funny business. I don’t want to be late.”

“Sure, sure,” Brittany says without a hint of seriousness. “It’s faster if we shower together anyways.”

“Oh, is it now?”

Brittany giggles and tightens her arms around Santana. “I suppose we don’t exactly have the best track record,” she concedes. 

Santana smirks and spins in Brittany’s arms, rising up on her toes to press a kiss to the underside of Brittany’s chin. “Today could be the exception,” Santana muses out loud.

(It isn’t.)

(Though they do still have twenty minutes before they _have_ to leave and risk being exceptionally late. And besides, Santana argues in her head, when is the Hummelberry Trainwreck ever actually on time anyways?)

It’s despite their delayed start to the day and them rushing around to leave on time anyways that Santana knows she’s acting just a little bit weird, but she feels jumpy and giddy and excited all at once and she can’t quite contain it; she especially knows she’s acting weird because Brittany keeps shooting her these curious looks while they do their makeup and hair and get dressed.

“Are you okay?” Brittany asks as she zips up the back of Santana’s dress, her expression caught between worry and confusion in the mirror. “You’re kinda jittery. Like all your insides want to be outside.”

Santana shakes her head and gives Brittany a faint smile, spinning around to wrap her arms around Brittany’s waist and bury her face in her neck; Brittany’s arms automatically wrap tightly around Santana as she presses a long kiss to the dark hair tucked under her chin, rocking them comfortingly back and forth. “I’m fine, really,” Santana promises.

“Are you nervous about the duet or something?”

Santana smiles and kisses Brittany’s collarbone. “Nah,” she says, and she’s not even lying, “Just excited. Really, really excited.”

“Good,” Brittany says, pecking Santana on the lips before untangling from her in order to grab her phone and her wallet and keys from her dresser. “We should leave now though, and we might just make it in time to be fashionably late.”

“Which will probably be early considering Hummelberry’s inability to get all three of their brain cells to cooperate,” Santana says with a dramatic eye roll, trailing after Brittany down the hall.

“Well, they are a trainwreck,” Brittany agrees, echoing Santana’s earlier thoughts and almost causing her to drop to her knee right then and there. 

Santana manages to resist, but that’s mostly because she doesn’t actually have the ring right now. They skip coffee and breakfast since they’re already late, making brunch plans for once they’re done with glee club today as they head out the door. Brittany locks the house door behind her since both her parents are already at work and the munchkin is off at school, before rushing in front of Santana to open the passenger door with an elaborate bow. Santana giggles at her girlfriend’s ridiculousness, but still falls a little bit more in love with her, just like she always does whenever Brittany does something ridiculously sweet (or does anything, to be honest). Brittany helps Santana into the car even though she doesn’t need it, kissing the back of Santana’s knuckles before rounding the car to the driver’s side. She starts the car and carefully backs out of the driveway, immediately placing her hand palm up on the centre console as soon as she’s driving down the street, and Santana interlaces their fingers with an easy smile.

They’re about halfway to the school when Santana’s phone vibrates in her lap and she carefully looks at it so Brittany has no chance of seeing it from the driver’s seat. It’s Mercedes, with a text that reads, _Just reminding you that I gave the ring to that girl before I left yesterday (and expressed the utter importance of her protecting that ring with her life like you asked, you lunatic). I’m so disappointed I have to miss it ‘cause of this dumb meeting in NY, but everything’s a go!_

Santana sends back _Thanks Wheezy, or whatever_ , and the fingers of her other hand involuntarily squeeze Brittany’s fingers. Brittany gives Santana a quick smile and a returning squeeze before turning her eyes back on the road.

Mercedes texts her back almost instantly, and all it reads is _You better call me and tell me the good news after or I’m never inviting you on tour again_ , followed a couple seconds later by _Go get the girl, Satan_. 

Santana really can’t help the beaming smile that stretches across her face right then.


	3. nobody but you, my love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The tour wasn’t supposed to last this long but ‘Cedes went and got all successful,” Santana complains fondly. Brittany kisses her again, quick and firm. “I wanted to do it in the choir room because, well, you know,” Santana trails off and instead just smiles at Brittany.
> 
> Brittany nudges her nose against Santana’s, kissing her again and again before pressing their foreheads together. “Because that’s where we fell in love,” she says.
> 
> Santana smiles and stares into eyes so blue she loses her breath; she’s going to be looking into those eyes for the rest of her life and she can’t wait. “Because that’s where we fell in love,” she repeats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re just going to pretend that Brittany told her parents about being engaged that day cause the fact that there’s five episodes between the engagement and her telling her parents makes about as much sense as the rest of the Glee timeline, which is to say not much.

Brittany can’t stop staring at the ring, and Santana can’t stop staring at Brittany, a small thrill warming her from the inside out every time she sees the perfect ring on the perfect girl, a mix of pride and giddiness and absolute elation; it’s hard not to see how Brittany practically glows with blissful pleasure. Santana would probably be a little bit concerned about Brittany driving them home considering her distraction if she wasn’t the most cautious driver she knows. Brittany limits herself to admiring the ring at stoplights and intersections, where she waits just a few moments longer than usual to go through them; Santana spends the entire ride back to the Pierce’s admiring Brittany, her _fiancée_. There’s still residual butterflies still fluttering in Santana’s stomach, and every time she sees Brittany out of the corner of her eye or catches the sparkle of her ring or feels Brittany’s fingers tighten around hers. 

They end up just lounging on Brittany’s bed together once they make it to the Pierce’s, lying on their sides so they can watch each other, their knees pressed together and their fingers a tangled mess between their bodies, smiling goofily and pressing their foreheads together, content to just _be_ together as _fiancées_ for the first time. Santana pulls Brittany’s left hand up to her face and plays with her fingers, running her thumb over the ring on her finger with indescribable elation warming her insides, ballooning up into her chest until she feels too full, like she can’t quite contain all the happiness her body currently holds. She can feel Brittany’s eyes on her, and when she looks up to catch them they’re bright and glowing and teary. “Britt,” Santana murmurs, untangling one of her hands from Brittany’s to reach up and cup her face, thumbing the wetness away from underneath her eye. 

“I’m just really happy right now,” Brittany whispers. 

Santana smiles and leans in to kiss Brittany softly. “So am I,” she whispers back. She lifts Brittany’s left hand to her lips and presses a kiss to the ring. “I, uh, want to— I mean, you should take this off,” she stutters. Brittany snatches her hand back to her chest with a look so affronted that Santana has to actually take a moment to go back over what she said. “No!” Santana half shouts, “Not like— No, no, no. I don’t mean _take it off_ , take it off, I mean just for a second. I want to show you something.”

Brittany still looks a little suspicious, but also a little curious. She warily slips the ring off her finger. “Now what? Can I put it back on yet?”

Santana chuckles at her impatience and lifts a hand to finger the ring. “Read the band,” she prompts. 

Brittany holds the ring closer to her face, a small crease between her brows as she studies the ring. “Is it some kind of invisible ink?” she finally asks, “Cause as cool as that would be, I’d prefer it to be back on my finger now. 

Santana grins and scooches a little closer. “It’s on the inside,” she explains.

Brittany turns the band a little to look, and her small gasp of wonder as she reads it means everything to Santana. Brittany hastily slips the ring back on her finger and throws herself on Santana with a choked “I love you” as she peppers kisses across Santana’s face, warm and adoring. Santana laughs, relieved and excited and more happy than she’s ever been, and tilts her face to catch Brittany’s lips.

Eventually, Brittany gives Santana one more warm kiss before shifting back to settle on her side, closer than before, foreheads pressed together and noses brushing.

“Did anyone know you were planning to propose?” Brittany asks softly, reaching a hand up to cup Santana’s face.

Santana smiles gently and nods. “I told my mom what I was planning before we got here. She was over the moon excited, and I’m pretty sure we have another hour tops before she starts calling us with demands about what all happened.” Brittany chuckles and runs her thumb over the inner band of her ring; Santana’s fingers follow hers and settle against her ring finger too. “And your parents,” she adds, “they knew too.”

Brittany’s eyes sparkle and she carefully runs the thumb of her other hand over Santana’s cheek. “My parents knew?”

Santana nods again, this time shy and bashful. “I asked for their blessing,” she explains. Santana sees Brittany’s breath catch more than she hears it, her lips slightly parted and her eyes wide and bright. “They gave it to me, by the way.”

Brittany giggles and uses the hand cupping Santana’s jaw to draw her close enough that she can kiss her (not that she has to pull her very far), soft and deep and searching. “Of course they said yes,” she mumbles, “They’ve loved you almost as long as I have.”

Santana smiles, all deep dimples and scrunched eyes and flushed cheeks, and Brittany kisses her again like she can’t help it. _I love you_ Brittany says with her kiss, an echo of why her heart beats, like a glimpse of light through a crack in the blinds. It’s hard to kiss her properly around her smile, but Santana knows she’ll keep trying for the rest of her life anyways. Brittany’s breathless and bright when she pulls back, pressing her forehead to Santana’s with a smile. 

“Mercedes knew too,” Santana whispers. She’s been waiting impatiently for months to finally be able to tell Brittany all of this, all of her plans and her hopes and her daydreams, and it feels even better than she ever imagined it would.

“She did?” Brittany asks in delight.

Santana nods and the smile that seems permanently stitched to her face spreads even wider. “She was the first to know. She found the ring back in Chicago.”

Brittany’s eyes widen and sparkle so brightly Santana briefly wonders if they could make her engagement ring send rainbows around the room like the sunlight does. “You’ve been planning it for that long?” she asks, her voice soft and awed.

Santana gives a smile that’s part proud and part sheepish. “Longer, actually. I started looking for a ring when we were in L.A.”

Brittany gasps and looks entirely smitten. “That was, like, five months ago.”

Santana shrugs and lets Brittany kiss her, long and deep and searching. “The tour wasn’t supposed to last this long but ‘Cedes went and got all successful,” Santana complains fondly when they’re forced to break apart to breathe. “I wanted to do it in the choir room because, well, you know,” Santana trails off and instead just smiles at Brittany.

Brittany nudges her nose against Santana’s with her own smile, kissing her again and again before pressing their foreheads together. “Because that’s where we fell in love,” she says.

Santana smiles and stares into eyes so blue she loses her breath; she’s going to be looking into those eyes for the rest of her life and she can’t wait. “Because that’s where we fell in love,” she repeats. Santana tilts her chin up to recapture Brittany’s lips, giggling into her mouth when Brittany hums and it vibrates against Santana’s lips. “Anyways,” she continues once Brittany pulls away, “I was keeping it in my makeup bag because you never go in there.” Brittany pulls a disgusted face that melts into a smile when Santana kisses her crinkled nose. “But housekeeping knocked it over when we were at that hotel in Chicago and it fell out, so they just put it on the bedside table, and I was terrified you had found it.”

“That’s why you were acting so squirrelly that day,” Brittany realizes.

Santana chuckles. “Yeah, Mercedes offered to keep it safe until I needed it, so there was less of a chance of you finding out, which, thank God for her, honestly.” 

“Aww, babe, you have friends!” Brittany says.

“Oh, shut up,” Santana laughs, tightening her arms around Brittany’s waist and pulling herself into her body; Brittany just giggles into her hair. Santana places a gentle kiss to Brittany’s chest, right above her heart, and she can feel the hitch in Brittany’s breathing at the soft contact. “Now I have a fiancée too,” she murmurs.

“Yeah you do,” Brittany says breathlessly, and Santana can hear the smile in Brittany’s voice, and then feel it against the crown of her head when she presses a kiss there. 

They just lay there in happy silence, occasionally giggling and exchanging kisses. Santana narrates the last couple months of her trying to hide everything from Brittany and all the times she wanted to just say _screw it_ and ask her anyways (including that one drunken proposal that Brittany _definitely_ remembers, to Santana’s chagrin). They spend the rest of the day like that, relaxing and kissing. Or, they spend the next hour doing that, and then Santana’s stomach grumbles so loud they have a laughing fit, and then Maribel calls and insists on taking them out for brunch; which is where they meet Brittany’s parents for a surprise engagement brunch, who hug Santana so tight she can barely breathe (right after Pierce Pierce jokingly reintroduces himself to Santana, but this time it’s as _your fiancée’s father_ , and she kind of loves him for it) and the munchkin, who’s almost as excited about Santana officially being her sister as she is to be skipping her fourth period class.

After brunch and the munchkin is returned to school (much to her displeasure) and the Pierce’s go back to work and Maribel heads back home, Santana and Brittany spend the rest of the day just cuddling in bed (and maybe repeating some of the things in the shower that morning, but that’s just between them). Brittany sneaks away for about an hour to make her own engagement present, with the help of Maribel running interference and insisting that Santana come home for a little bit so they can FaceTime Santana’s favourite aunt and tell her the good news (which isn’t as annoying as Santana makes it out to be, not only does she love her aunt, she’s stupidly proud to be able to gush about her proposal and to call Brittany her _fiancée_ to anyone who will listen; Brittany’s pretty sure this will be worse than the second half of senior year when Santana called Brittany her girlfriend at every possible moment, and Brittany can’t wait).

It’s later, when Santana closes her eyes that night curled against Brittany, she can still see the look of tear-eyed wonder and adoration on Brittany’s face when she first dropped to her knee, burned against her mind like the sparks of light flickering across closed eyelids that come after staring into the embers of a fire.

When she smiles softly at the thought she feels soft lips against hers and she sighs at the gentle pressure, her fingers slipping into the spaces between Brittany’s ribs as Brittany’s hands roam her back and fill all her vacant places; this girl is going to be her future, and Santana can hardly wait for it to start.

 


End file.
